by Shayla Black
“Betty?” he asked her.
“That’s me. What you need?” She smiled. “Back in my day, I would have done just about anything to help a hunk like you.”
Nice, but they didn’t have time for memory lane now. He cleared his throat. “My girlfriend has gone to an attorney’s office to deal with the last provisions of a will. I’m told the office is about three miles east of here. Any idea whose office I should be looking for?”
She nodded as if he’d asked an easy question. “Sure. You want Press and Osborne. I’ll give you the address, but you head down the main drag . . .”
Axel took note as the woman gave him directions, committing cross streets and the name of the building in which the offices were located to memory.
“Thank you. Can either of you give me a ride there or tell me where to find a taxi?”
“I gotta start my shift. Dinner rush starts here about five, and we’re still a mess from lunch.” She sent Patrice an accusing stare.
The blonde held up her hands, stare incredulous. “I’m an actress, not a waitress.”
“And a slob, too. You can get out as soon as you pay me the two hundred dollars for giving you my shift.”
Patrice rolled her eyes and extracted a wad of bills from a pocket in her little skirt. She shoved a handful of bills into Betty’s palm. “If I never come here again, I’ll be thrilled.”
Ditto for him, Axel thought.
“You got a car?” he asked the actress.
“No. I have a shuttle coming to my hotel at five to take me to the airport. The hotel is only a few blocks, so I walked.”
Frustration crawled over Axel like a million stinging ants. “Can either of you tell me how to find a fucking taxi in this town before my girlfriend dies?”
At that, Betty scrambled to attention. “Yeah. Should I call the police?”
For a crime that hadn’t actually happened yet? The cops wouldn’t do a damn bit of good until it was too late. “I can do that. Just get me a taxi.”
As Betty darted away to do his bidding, Axel stabbed at the screen of his phone again. He only knew one person who had money to burn, contacts in Hollywood, and secrets to keep. He intended to get the son of a bitch on the phone now.
Finally, he pressed the button to engage the call.
“Hello?” Marshall Mullins answered almost instantly.
“I’ll skip the ‘how-the-fuck-could-you’ speech and get right to asking where she is.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Well, your plan to send me an actress to play the role of waitress slash nympho worked damn well, and now Mystery is convinced I’m a cheating scum.” Like you. “She’s run off with Heath and her aunt and left me behind at some craptastic diner while the secrets you’ve been holding in are breathing down her neck. But I guess you planned it like that.”
“Why would I do that?” he asked incredulously. “I’ve wanted you to stay with my daughter since the danger started. You and Heath are the only two I trust with her safety.”
“The taxi will be here in a few,” Betty whispered in his other ear. “Good luck.”
When Axel turned to nod at her, he noticed that the jaded woman’s face had softened. “Thanks.”
He stepped outside to await his ride and turned his focus on Mullins again. “Did you have anything to do with your wife’s murder? Did you pay someone to off her? Who’s going to rub Mystery out here in Kansas? You’ll have an even better alibi this time, by the way, being over a thousand miles away. Smart thinking.”
“You’re way the hell out of line, Dillon,” Mullins roared. “I didn’t kill Julia. I didn’t have her killed, either. I would never harm a hair on Mystery’s head. Why else would I send her to the States with protection if I wanted her dead?”
“You tell me. You’re keeping a shitload of secrets, and it’s putting her in danger. So you start talking and tell me whatever you’ve kept quiet. If you don’t and something terrible happens to the woman I love, so help me, I will hunt you down. One day when you least expect it, you will find me beside you in an alley and I’ll have even less mercy for you than you did for your wife and daughter. You have no idea how painful I’ll make your death or how much I’ll relish it.”
“Whoa!” Mullins choked. “What’s happened? Why don’t you start at the beginning?”
“I don’t have time. If you’re serious about keeping Mystery safe, prove it by telling me what the fuck you’re hiding from her and the rest of the world.”
Her father sighed. “Let me see if I can get ahold of Heath and have him skip this appointment with the attorney and take her to a safe location.”
“I tried to call him already. No answer.”
“Frankly, I don’t think you’re his favorite person, so he may not answer you. Hang on.”
“All right, but if you double-cross me . . . I’ve warned you.”
The director let out a rough breath. “You did. I swear, my only concern is Mystery’s safety. I’ll be right back with you.”
Axel squirmed in his seat. Damn it, he needed to pee again, and he had no idea why. He didn’t have time to deal with this shit.
The minute seemed to take ten years before Mullins clicked back over and let out a panicked groan. “Heath isn’t answering me, either. You think something is wrong?”
Axel could almost guarantee it was. “Tell me whose secret you’re keeping or what you’re protecting. It may help me save her life. Because I can’t think of any other way to help her right now.”
Mullins gave him a shaky sigh. “All right, but I kept this to myself purely for Mystery’s protection. I never wanted anything to touch her, and I never dreamed that it could become her worst nightmare. What I’m about to say can never leak out to the public. And it can’t ever reach her ears.”
“Go ahead. I’m listening . . .”
* * *
IN the passenger’s seat, Mystery curled her knees against her chest, heels clinging to the corner of the seat, and lowered her head. She didn’t want anyone to see her cry. Her aunt would only tell her to rely on God. Maybe that would be a comfort to the woman, but Mystery couldn’t manage spiritual just now. And she had no right to ask Heath for anything after she’d tried to use him to make Axel feel as wretched as she did.
What had she been thinking? Nothing, clearly. She’d let emotion take over like an idiot. Normally, she’d scoff at people who couldn’t keep their crap together. In fact, Mystery couldn’t remember a time since that spat with Axel at the hotel in the ghost town when she’d been worked up enough to lose all sense of logic. But now . . . she knew how being completely shocked and emotional screwed with her head.
She’d lashed out at Axel for hurting her, and it definitely hadn’t been her proudest moment. In fact, she’d really like to forget it, go back to the wee hours of the morning when she’d been cozied up with Axel in bed, feeling so loved and secure. She knew that unleashing her temper, as she’d done after Axel’s rejection in Cerro Gordo, solved nothing. She also knew how much running out would hurt Axel. But she’d done it anyway. Now she had to face that fact, like life, head-on.
“I’m sorry, Heath.”
He nodded slowly, then glanced into the rearview mirror at her aunt in the backseat. “Where to?”
“Drive down this road about two miles. Three blocks up, take a left. It’s the second building on your right.”
“Very good,” he said to her aunt as they stopped at a light. He stared straight ahead, as if he refused to look at Mystery.
She winced. She’d hurt his feelings. Somehow, she had to make amends.
“Kissing you in that situation was wrong and unfair,” she whispered. “If I could take it back, I—”
“But you can’t,” he cut in softly. “And you would never have kissed me voluntarily if you hadn’t been trying to hurt Axel.”
Mystery wanted to say something that would soothe Heath, but he wasn’t wrong, and lying would only make matters worse. “I’m sorry.�
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“This trip has made me realize that I’ve been an idiot. When your father first hired me, you were a lovely girl, and I was a grieving widower. I didn’t see you as a woman. But as I got to know you, I enjoyed your company, your wit and smile, the way you slowly came out of your shell. I liked that you needed me, confided in me, persuaded me to emerge from my self-imposed exile. I didn’t realize until I saw you with Axel how completely I’d fallen in love with you. I’ve been blind all this time. Now I can’t unsee what’s in my heart.”
Mystery peered over at him, eyes willing and wishing she could comfort him, even as she acknowledged that she was the problem. And that made her feel awful. “I care for you. I really do.”
“But today proved that I’ll never be more than a substitute for you. Even if you never see Axel again, you love him. I could probably take advantage of your vulnerability and coax you into some sort of relationship for a few days, a few weeks, maybe even forever. But you’ll never truly be mine, and I must break away from this unhealthy connection and start living again.”
A bolt of shock struck her square in the chest. “What are you saying?”
“As soon as I have you back safely in London and delivered to your father, I’ll be resigning. If he’s interested in hiring another bodyguard for you, I can recommend several who would be excellent. But I cannot stay.”
She didn’t deserve to indulge in a pity party, but she couldn’t seem to not make herself the guest of honor. How had she managed to screw up everything so catastrophically so quickly? How did she pull herself out of it?
Suck it up, cupcake. Tomorrow, she could be on her way back to the UK. She’d sort through whatever her mom had left her, along with the mess she’d made of her life, and figure out what to do next. Right now, she just had to get through this meeting.
Mystery sniffled and rifled in the glove box for some tissues, using them to dab her eyes. “I understand. I never meant to hurt you.”
He answered with a manly grunt and focused unwaveringly on the road ahead. Finally, they reached the attorney’s office and parked. After checking her face—her eyes were a puffy nightmare, but at least she hadn’t been wearing mascara—Mystery dug some lipstick out of her purse and applied it.
“Are you all right?” her aunt asked, clucking like a mother hen.
“I’ll be fine. What floor?” Mystery asked more to change the subject than because she really cared.
“Fourth.” Aunt Gail smiled and patted her hand.
As Heath exited the car, he looked around cautiously, taking note of the street, passersby, other cars, any open windows. Mystery knew the drill. He went through the rundown in his head anytime they were in public.
“Do you still have the key I gave you?”
Mystery nodded at her aunt. “In my purse. I’m ready.”
“Are you?” Heath asked.
No, but she’d run out of time. She’d dragged her feet in claiming her mother’s belongings at eighteen, telling herself that her friends and future were more important than a bunch of her mom’s junk from the past. The truth was, she hadn’t really wanted to sift through the contents and have to deal with the aftermath of what she found. Then she’d moved to London, so the excuses had been easy. When would she ever get to Emporia, Kansas, again, right? But in order to pursue what she’d been feeling for Axel, she’d had to give her father a plausible excuse, and retrieving her mother’s effects had slipped off her tongue. Now that her relationship with Axel was in shambles, Mystery wished she could snuggle in front of the fire in her flat back home with her laptop, her characters, and a glass of wine, far away from the uncertainty and danger.
“Sure,” she murmured.
In front of the elevator a sign affixed to a dangling red chain hanging between two stanchions read OUT OF ORDER. Aunt Gail groaned as they made their way up the stairs, huffing and puffing hard by the third flight. En route, they passed a dentist’s office, a tutoring facility, and quite a few suites under refurbishment.
When they reached the fourth floor, Heath opened the door and peeked out. Once he deemed the empty space safe, he waved them out of the stairwell.
Mystery stepped through, checking the open landing with faux trees and nondescript dark-wood and beige chairs. The short pile carpeting in an uninspiring shade of oatmeal and the wall sconces with brass accents looked tired and out of date.
Whatever. She just wanted this over with. She was concerned that whoever had left the threatening picture in her hotel room in Dallas would be lying in wait for her here. Mystery would love to believe that, somehow, she’d lost the psycho’s trail and could just search her mother’s belongings in peace, but a tingling at the back of her neck told her otherwise. And after all the drama of the day, she absolutely didn’t need more.
Inside the office’s faux frosted-glass double doors, a fortysomething receptionist looked up from her gossip magazine, barely concealing irritation at the interruption, and buzzed Mr. Osborne. Two minutes later, she ushered them to the back, past a coffee station, a dark office, then to the end of the hall. The placard on the door read NELSON OSBORNE.
A man pushing sixty rose to his average height, wearing his gray suit well as he stood and greeted them with a jaunty wave. The movement didn’t ruffle his artificially dark hair, sprayed into place just so.
“Come on in.” He stuck out his hand. “Welcome. I’m Nelson.”
“Hi. I’m Julia Mullins’s daughter, Mystery.” They shook hands, then she turned to the others. “This is my mother’s sister, Gail Leedy.”
“I think we met years ago,” Osborne said.
“I believe so,” her aunt said placidly, then scooted to the far side of the desk to take one of the two guest chairs.
“And this is my . . . friend Heath.” Mystery hesitated to admit he was a bodyguard. To some, it sounded either paranoid or pretentious. And if Osborne or anyone in his office was somehow in on the plot to kill her, she didn’t want to tip off the fact that she’d come armed with protection.
But Heath gave himself away when he nodded sharply, cased the office, then took up sentry by the door. So inconspicuous . . . Mystery sighed.
Osborne sat again. “You look so much like your mother. It’s uncanny. She was a beautiful woman, too. I was so sorry to hear about her sudden and terrible passing.”
Mystery really didn’t want to rehash it now. She felt as if she’d reached the drama quotient lately, and she’d grieve her mother’s death again on its anniversary next Tuesday. “Thank you. As you know, I’ve come for her effects.”
He nodded. “We’ll have a few papers to sign, but let’s claim your mother’s belongings, then you can acknowledge receipt and whatnot. You have your key?”
“I do.” She nodded, wondering where Mom’s safe-deposit box was located. This office didn’t look like a secure facility, and she couldn’t imagine where the attorney would keep such things properly locked up.
“We’ll be heading to the bank across the street. I’ve given them a copy of your mother’s death certificate and prepared the other necessary paperwork. Your aunt, as executor of her will, provided testament that you are now the exclusive box holder and, therefore, the only person who can open it. As long as you have a photo ID, we should sail through the process.” Osborne rose from his seat.
Mystery followed suit. While keeping her mother’s possessions at the bank made more sense, she wished Osborne could have simply had them waiting for her. Legally, she knew that wasn’t possible, but she was anxious to have this behind her and return safely to the farm so she could lick her wounds in private. And she had to admit that she hoped she’d see Axel if he came back for his duffel and rental car. No idea what she’d say to him. She didn’t know how to reconcile so many red flags that pointed to him being a cheater with the hero she’d first fallen for. Had she gotten it all wrong today? Even if she had, she didn’t think he’d tolerate the fact that she’d told him off and walked out.
“I’ll follow you over th
ere,” Mystery murmured.
“Very good.” Osborne stepped around his desk and sent a wary glance Heath’s way. “Whenever you’re ready . . .”
Aunt Gail fidgeted in her seat. “Goodness, I’d rather not have to walk up and down the stairs again. Your elevator is out of order, and I’m afraid I’m not recovered from the last hike. May I stay here?”
Osborne looked around his fastidious office. Not a single sheet of paper cluttered his massive mahogany desk. He ensured all his filing cabinets were locked and closed his laptop, which likely needed a password to access. “Of course. Forgive me, but I’m required to be cautious with other people’s sensitive legal issues.”
“Of course.” Gail smiled in relief. “May I help myself to coffee?”
“Please do.”